Tales of Toccoa
by mickeyroonski
Summary: Long winding tale of Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon's relationship, from their meeting at Camp Toccoa in 1942, to (eventually) the end of the war in Austria, 1945. Based purely on miniseries, liberties taken on when to introduce characters/their roles. I've tried to stay close to what happens in the miniseries but for example I added Ron Speirs early because I think it adds dimension
1. Chapter 1

The evening sun shone bright on the tall mountain overhead. The gravel on the ground made crunching noises as dozens of shoes hit it in unison. Soft panting of paratroopers echoed through the forest that surrounded the mountain. It was Richard Winters' third day at Camp Toccoa and already he had run this mountain six times. Three miles up, three miles down. The men around him looked up into the sun, as if hoping it might burst and rocket into the Earth, thus ending their misery. Even Dick had to admit, he was exhausted and prayed that the endless running of the past three days would not be the pattern of the boot camp.

At the top of the mountain, known as Currahee, Dick slowed his breathing down while some other men laid down in exhaustion. The sun was setting now, and the wind had a cold note in it, as if threatening the runners with an early autumn. Dick thought of his home in Pennsylvania, with its wide fields and sweet pastures, and he missed it. Although, Georgia was beautiful, all rolling hills and red dirt that dusted through Dick's already red hair while he ran. The setting sun's rays made the hills glisten in hues of orange and violet and maroon. Dick inhaled the sweet summer air, ready to begin the descent down Currahee.

As they jogged down the mountain, the sun set completely, and the men began to chatter just a bit. Dick listened in politely, but felt out of place. Sure, it had only been a few days since he arrived here, but already he had seen friendships formed. None of the few men he befriended at basic training were transferred to Camp Toccoa. Maybe because none of them were dumb enough to join the paratroopers.

Dick glanced around. There was a tough looking dark haired guy he thought was named Bill, Bill something. He couldn't remember the last name. He was funny, with a heavy Philadelphia accent. Dick thought it was funny that he and Bill could be from the same state, yet have almost nothing in common. Dick was quiet, reserved, and observant. He didn't mind being this way, but it made branching out difficult, especially during the first week. Dick may have been twenty-four, but sometimes he still felt like a teenager pretending to be a grown up. He knew he had to hid these insecurities if he wanted to go anywhere in the Army.

Bill hung around with a guy named George Luz, who was probably funnier than Bill, but not as wild. Then there was Skip Muck and Don Malarkey, who had to have gotten to Toccoa before Dick because they seemed thick as thieves already. He didn't feel too bad though, because he noticed lots of guys shuffling to find an empty seat at dinner in the mess hall, and he noticed lots more guys wandering around alone when they were allowed free time. The Army was different than what he thought it would be. It seemed quieter, like the world had been silenced by the grand mountain that stood above the camp.

When Dick got down the mountain they were allowed five minute showers, and he was grateful to wash the red clay from his shoulders, feel the lukewarm water relax his muscles in the Georgia heat. Dick never minded communal showers, and he liked the routine of it. Five minutes, and then out. He knew what to expect.

Once safely tucked away in the barracks with his other soldiers-in-training, Dick thought about his future. He had only just gotten to paratrooper school, but there was a war on. Possibly the most devastating war the world had ever known. Soon he would be thrown into the frontlines. He knew that if he hadn't have voluntarily joined the military then he would have been drafted. He knew that, and yet, he wondered if he had made a mistake by going now. Shouldn't he want to spend every last possible second with his parents and sister? His head said yes, but deep down, Dick knew he had to go right away. He had to believe he was doing something worthwhile. After all, something in him made him choose to join an airborne division and it wasn't just the excellent pay. Dick thought it was something like adventure, or maybe a sense of duty. Something deep inside him spurred him on. Maybe it was something like fate, egging him on, telling him this was his path. Dick rolled around on his small bed, trying to still his mind. The camp was silent, with only the moon for company; the beds were lined up nice and neat. Nobody else seemed to be awake.

Turning around a second time, Dick glimpsed a shadow in the moonlight. In the quiet Dick could hear snickering from close by. Dick sat up. In the window, he saw two dark haired men running by his building. The snickering continued, followed by shushing. Now, Dick wasn't one to snoop, and he certainly didn't care that these guys were getting up to trouble, but he could also feel the curiosity eat at his distracted mind. The two men had stopped by the window closest to Dick. He got up slowly, tiptoeing towards the side door. Nobody else was getting up and Dick couldn't decide if it was because they hadn't heard what he had, or that they were smarter than him and stayed put.

The wood door creaked as Dick pushed on it, but thankfully no one had gotten up to check out the noise. He was only in a white tee shirt and shorts, and it was surprisingly chilly for a late July night. Maybe nature really was threatening an early fall.

Huddled under the window, Dick saw the two blacked haired men, both in tan trousers and white tees. They were obviously trying to hide a liquor bottle behind their backs, but Dick didn't see anyone else around. Dick was far enough away and hidden in the shadows, so he wasn't spotted. One of the men was smaller than the other, more lithe and cat-like. He had serious eyes which were lit up with mischievousness at the moment. The other had thick eyebrows and a mocking smile placed firmly on his face. He had wide shoulders which partially obscured the other man from Dick's sight.

Quietly, the man with the broad shoulders tipped back the bottle of liquor into his mouth, and then passed it to his friend. His friend sat on the ground and gulped down a generous helping. They both looked mildly drunk, and very happy.

Suddenly Dick had no idea why he was out here. What was he going to do, waltz up and take a swig? Dick didn't even like drinking. He certainly wasn't going to report them, although he probably should have. So, Dick swiveled back towards the door and slowly inched it open to go back inside—

"Hey!" an all too familiar voice rang out through the hills. Dick froze. "We will find you, and your punishment will last for the rest of your days here, if you are lucky enough to stay!" It was Captain Sobel, the toughest captain at the camp. Dick rolled his eyes momentarily, before realizing he could get in trouble just for being outside this late.

The two boys on the ground scrambled back to a crouching position, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. They shuffled closer to Dick, looking for a way inside the barracks. Dick nervously shifted on his feet, not knowing when Sobel was going to jump out.

"Where are they?" Sobel seemed to yell to no one in particular. When Dick turned back to the boys, he realized they had pushed past him and were going through the door to his barrack. If they noticed him, they didn't make any indication of it, and Dick jumped back inside after them.

Too scared to see where the boys went, Dick jumped back into bed as he heard the runaways twist and turn through the rows and rows of beds. As he threw his blanket over him, he glanced at the front door, where he saw one of the men looking back at him, just for a second. It was the man with the broad shoulders, his smile clever, and one cheek dimpling slightly. Dick stared at him until he turned around and went out the door. Dick stared at the blackness after he had left. Men were stirring in their beds as they heard the wooden doors bang shut. Dick did nothing though, he didn't tell what he saw, he only turned onto his stomach, thrilled slightly by the mysterious soldiers he had seen.

The next morning was the worst morning of Dick's young life. They had been woken up at five in the morning, an hour earlier than usual, and marched to the mess hall for a piece of bread and water. Captain Sobel had barely said anything except to bark out orders. Dick knew something was up though, and everyone who slept in his barrack knew it too.

After their so-called meal, they were brought to the bottom of Currahee, with the beginnings of dawn breaking the skyline. Dick was in the first row of Easy Company, and he glanced around at the others. Sobel was marching up the rows, his face cold and stern in the morning light. Dick had the sick feeling that his legs were about to get the workout of a lifetime before he even went to war.

Sobel addressed the company. "As you may know by now, two among you decided last night that running Currahee twice a day is not enough," he paused and motioned for someone to step forward, "these two, Ronald Speirs and Lewis Nixon, have acted like foolish children in the night, stealing booze and then running away from a direct order to halt." Sobel watched as the offenders, Speirs and Nixon, stepped in front of the company.

There was a collective tensing of muscles as irritation seeped through the crowd. Speirs, the slighter figure, stared out, emotionless, but Nixon had his head down, either hungover or embarrassed, Dick couldn't tell.

"So, Easy Company, we will be running Currahee, all day today, and all day tomorrow, only stopping for water," Sobel paced back and forth, "but I wouldn't drink too much, since we will not be stopping for bathroom breaks." Sobel almost seemed to be enjoying this.

Nixon and Speirs were marched to the front and began running before anyone else. Dick watched Nixon ahead of him. It occurred to Dick that he had probably earned the hate of everyone here. Dick however, thought it was funny that the two boys hunched together drinking in the middle of the night, though he himself would never do it. Nixon ran slower than Speirs, but he had a nice gait and he didn't slip on the gravel. Dick started with the other men, who by now were fuming with rage.

That night, when the company was finally allowed to stop running, and after everyone had hurriedly gone to the bathroom, Dick lie awake in his cot, again, thinking of home. He saw the small lake by his house with a small row boat tied to the dock. He thought he could smell the trees and feel the soft grass beneath his bare feet. Strangely though, he didn't miss it.

"You're Winters right?" A voice came from behind Dick and he sat up quickly. It was Nixon, and he was sitting on top of Dick's footlocker in front of his bed.

"Yeah, and you're Nixon." Dick stared at Nixon's dark eyes.

"Lewis."

"I know. Everyone knows who you are" Dick didn't mean his words to sound so harsh, but he did just spend the entire day running up a mountain because of him.

Lewis' eyes sparked with laughter, "Yes, sir, I know," he took a swig from his canteen. Dick didn't really know why Nixon was talking to him. Dick wasn't even sure if Nixon knew he saw them last night. "What were you doing up last night then?" Never mind, guess he knows. Dick swallowed and his throat felt dry. Maybe Nixon thought Dick had ratted them out.

"I saw you and Speirs, so I went to check it out." It was the truth.

"And did Sobel come and talk to you?" Nixon's voice didn't sound angry.

"No." Dick looked steadily back at Lewis. He did a once over of Dick and Dick suddenly shivered. He nodded his head once, accepting Dick's answer. Lewis hauled himself off the footlocker and smiled at Dick. Dick was slightly annoyed at Nixon, who didn't seem concerned that he had made his entire company suffer. He only cared about what Sobel had heard.

"Can I go to sleep now, Nix?" Dick ground out. He shot an irritated glance upwards, his normally neutral face shifting with emotion. Nixon smirked then, his dimple coming into view again. He leaned down right next to Dick, his mouth inches from Dick's ear.

"Sorry I made you run, Winters." Lewis Nixon breathed out. Before Dick could do anything, before he could register the blush on his face, Nixon was gone, out the door and on his way to his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few months at Toccoa blurred by in a frenzy of activity. Dick found himself taking on more of a leadership role among the men. Some men had started to take notice of him simply because he was so straight-laced. The man from Philadelphia, the funny one, was named Bill Guarnere. He knew Dick was from Lancaster County and made several farm boy jokes, which Dick had to admit were funny. From there he fell in with Bill's friends, George Luz and Joe Toye, along with the duo Skip Muck and Don Malarkey. Even Captain Sobel had seemed to notice him. There were rumors around the camp that Colonel Sink, the leader of the entire 506th regiment wanted to make Dick a 1st Lieutenant. Sobel had been giving him more responsibility and it turned out that Dick was able to naturally lead the motley crew of Easy Company. Whenever Dick thought about it, he smiled to himself, happy to be doing some good for men that would soon risk their lives.

Most exciting of all for Dick, was that Lewis Nixon seemed to have taken a shine to him. Nixon was from New Jersey, although Dick had heard him blabbing about being born in New York City and travelling to Europe when he was a child. Nixon was clever and witty. He had gone to Yale and was an expert in all things cultured. Despite this lofty background, everyone seemed to like Nixon. He was a good soldier, and the men trusted him, even if he had made them run Currahee until they collapsed. Apparently there were rumors of him becoming a 1st Lieutenant as well.

After Nixon had introduced himself to Dick, he had started to show up casually, at first only when Dick was with a whole bunch of men, and then later when Dick was walking back from training or class, just to talk. Nixon was an avid talker, and he knew something about everything. Dick didn't question why Nixon seemed to like him so much, mainly because he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to come up with an answer. Dick and Lewis were so different, and although most of the men liked Dick, it was clear he wasn't exactly best friend material, so Dick was grateful for the company.

On a rainy Tuesday night in mid-December, Dick found himself sprinting back from Currahee alone. He had taken to running alone before bed. He was heading for the showers, but now he wouldn't need it, seeing as the rain was falling steadily.

"Winters!" Nixon's voice came from the side of Dick. Dick was about halfway to camp. The rain came heavier and heavier, and Dick could hardly see Nixon slide up next to him, keeping his pace.

"I hate it when you call me that," Dick really did. "What are you doing out here anyway?" Lewis Nixon, despite his natural skills as a soldier, was not one to go the extra mile. Even though Dick had only known Nix a few months, he already understood that Nix wasn't a believer in the disciplined lifestyle of the American soldier.

"Sorry, Rich." Nixon grinned in the rain. Dick ignored the fact that Nix hadn't answered his question.

"You better watch it, Lew." Dick sped up his speed a little bit, trying not to slip on the wet ground. His shoes looked like they had been dipped in clay as the dry Georgia dirt spat back most of the rain the sky offered.

"Lew," Nix said his name slowly. "Lew. You've never called me that before." Nix looked out towards the camp. They were almost back.

"I guess I only call you that when I'm irritated," Dick slowed down as they rounded the corner that took them back to the barracks. "It's amazing it took three whole months!" Dick's voice caught in a laugh as he shoved Lewis away.

"Hey I think that's a new world record!" Lewis punched him on the arm and ran away as Dick gave chase. They kicked up dirt and mud and rocks as they rough housed around the camp, shouting at each other half-heartedly.

About two minutes in, Lewis slipped on mud and landed face first in front of Dick, his cheek catching on a stray rock. Blood creeped out of a small cut as Lewis grunted on the ground.

Dick laughed, "I guess that's what you get for following me up to Currahee!" He offered Nix a hand but he stayed firmly on the ground, gingerly touching his cheek. Dick rolled his eyes, thinking about how Nix would probably have to face injuries much worse than that eventually. Before he voiced this, he was struck with sudden nausea at the thought.

"Following you?" Nix jerked his head up. "I happened to be doing some intelligence work." Dick couldn't tell if he was messing with him. He raised his eyebrows.

"You? Intelligence?" Dick gripped Nix under the arm, wrenching him up from the mud.

"Colonel Sink wants me to be an intelligence officer," Lewis had a serious note in his voice. "I was running a drill in the rain, trying to navigate," Lewis looked over at Dick. "Then I saw you." The rain was still coming down steadily and Nixon's dark hair was made ink black with wetness.

Dick just nodded, trying to figure out what that would mean for Nixon's future on the frontlines. Certainly, he wouldn't be the first one sent into combat. Maybe if they both made 1st Lieutenant they'd be able to work closer together, although Dick knew that his place was leading men. Suddenly Dick wondered why it mattered so much to him.

"How's your cheek?" Dick went out to touch Nixon's face, but stopped himself. Internally he cringed. What was he doing?

Clearly Dick had made a weird expression because Nixon said, "It's fine, how's your face?" Nix mirrored Dick's look.

Unusually quick witted, Dick said, "Well it sure is better than yours, Lew." Dick had called him Lew again, but he was far from irritated. He felt queasy and flushed. Dick became very uncomfortable, and he moved for the door of his barrack, which thankfully, was not shared by Nix. "Well, I guess I'll see you around." _God_ , thought Dick. _You're being so lame._

"You're not going to shower?" Nixon gestured to the red mud that stuck to Dick's face and neck and hands. Dick thought Lew looked for a second longer at his neck than normal.

"Nah, I'm beat, Lew," There was that Lew again. "I'll see you for that field strategy class tomorrow though?" Sudden, strange anxiety filled him. He thought maybe he was going to heave up the canteen full of water he had drunk while running.

"Yeah, sure Dick." Lewis smiled then and headed off to the showers.

"And Nix?" Nix turned back around.

"What?"

"Take care of that cheek, huh?" Dick tapped his own cheek and smirked.

Nix smiled fondly, "Yeah yeah, thanks dad." Dick watched him trot away in the rain.

For the next week the camp was giddy for Christmas break. Well, if you could call it a break. Easy Company was to be given a half day of classes Christmas Eve and would have Christmas Day and half of the 26th off. Only a few lucky trainees would be allowed to return home. Dick wasn't one of those lucky few. It didn't actually bother him. He sent regular letters back home to his parents and sister. He even got to call them a couple of times. He did miss the Pennsylvania snow though. In Georgia it just rained a whole lot, and it wasn't warm either. Cold water was regularly running off the gutters of the camp, and huge puddles formed where the cracked ground was overly saturated.

On December 23rd Dick walked into the mess hall, cold and wet. George Luz was loudly singing Christmas carols in the corner, and Bull Randleman was smoking a cigar like always, rolling his eyes at George.

"Hello, sir." Eugene Roe, a short Cajun who was training to be a medic walked up to Dick. Eugene called everyone he respected sir, but it made Dick feel uncomfortable. Still, he didn't say anything. It certainly wouldn't do any good.

"Eugene," Dick smiled, "What's going on?" Dick got in line for some food. Maybe they'd have something special for the holidays.

"Well, sir, me and Ed Heffron were wondering if you were leaving for Christmas." Eugene picked up a tray and waited to be served.

"No I'm afraid I won't be having a Pennsylvania Christmas this year."

"I'm real sorry about that, but then we were thinking maybe you'd want to come 'round our bunks and spend it with us?" Eugene glanced at the food that had been plopped on his tray. It looked like corned beef casserole. "Most of the guys are gonna be together, you know, Guarnere, Toye, Randlemen, Malarkey, all them, you know." Dick smiled at Roe's eagerness. After Lew, Dick thought he was closest to Roe.

"Yeah, I'd love to." By now Dick and Eugene had sat down with the others, who were throwing things at Luz to get him to stop singing.

Dick ate his casserole quickly. He realized he was starving, and the food warmed his insides. It was gently raining outside, and someone had convinced Sobel that small Christmas lights should be allowed around the perimeter of the hall. Dick was starting to get a fuzzy sleeping feeling in his stomach.

"Hey where's eyebrows?" Bill was talking about Nixon. Bill looked at Dick expectantly. "He's usually tagging along after you isn't he, Dick?"

"He's probably poking around for liquor with Speirs, Gonorrhea." Joe Toye flung some casserole at Bill's temple. Bill retaliated by launching carrots at him like darts. Dick looked around, wary of Sobel to discipline them. However, he saw that there weren't many other people in the mess hall.

While Bill and Joe continued to fling food at each other, Dick finished eating and stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow night then, Eugene." Dick put his hand on Eugene's shoulder as he walked out the door. Eugene nodded quickly, distracted by the shenanigans in front of him.

Outside the rain had slowed to a mist, and Dick could see the moon behind a thick layer of clouds. Absently he rubbed his hands together, wishing he'd brought his gloves. It wasn't that late yet, and Dick thought about going for a quick run around camp. Dick decided to head over to his bed to grab some gloves before heading out.

As Dick walked inside his barrack, he recognized the back of Lewis Nixon, standing beside his bunk. He had his dress trousers and shirt on, a leather jacket slung over his arm. Dick smiled softly at his friend.

"Nix!" Dick clapped Nix on the back. Nix had his dress hat on and looked freshly showered.

"Hey, I was worried I'd miss you," Nix looked at Dick shyly. Dick stilled, confused. When Dick didn't reply, Nix hurriedly added, "I got a 48-hour pass, they just told me this morning." Nixon held up a piece of paper.

"Oh," Was all Dick managed at first. "Well, that's great Nix, I'm sure your family will be thrilled to see you." Dick sat down on his bed, suddenly feeling very tired. He looked back up at Nix.

"Well, you don't know them like I do," Nixon laughed flatly. Dick knew his family was a sore spot, but he refused to believe his family wouldn't want to see their son for the holidays. Especially when that son was on his way to war. "Still, I'm excited for some real food and good booze." Lewis sat down next to Dick. Neither of them said anything for a minute.

"Don't get too plastered, alright?" Dick began rummaging around in his footlocker for gloves. He rifled through letters and spare fatigues, but he couldn't find his leather gloves. Nix had stayed quiet on the bed, but knelt down next to Dick.

"Here," Nix pulled a pair of gloves out of his jacket. "Take mine." Dick turned towards him as Nix smoothed them out. Just as he went to grab them, Nix grabbed Dick's wrist and gently pulled the first glove onto his hand. Dick's hands froze and his heart seemed to jump into his throat. Nix stayed quiet as he put on the other glove. Then he grabbed Dick's hands in both of his, rubbing them together.

"How did you know that's what I was looking for?" Dick cocked his head to the side.

"Dick whenever we eat together you leave early to run," Nix rolled his eyes. "God knows why, there'll be enough running in Europe." Nix almost grimaced. Sometimes the war didn't even seem real anymore, they were so cooped up at Camp Toccoa. Dick hadn't really registered the fact that he was actually going. Nix let go of his hands.

"Right, yeah," Dick laughed in spite of himself. "Well, thanks, and try to enjoy your freedom." Dick made himself hide his disappointment at his friend's leaving.

Nixon smirked at him and said, "Just keep those on, it gets surprisingly cold here in Georgia, at least at night," Nix pointed down at Dick's now gloved hands. "I don't want to come back to see you've gotten the flu or something, you gotta stay strong to fight off those Germans!" Nixon visibly moved back from Dick. The air seemed to stiffen with something unspoken, though Dick couldn't say what.

"Merry Christmas, Lew." Dick rubbed his hands together.

"See you in 48-hours." Nix started backing towards the door. He waved briefly, and finally walked out of the door.

Dick sighed, already missing his friend. _It's only for two days; he'll be back before Christmas is over._ Dick laid his head on his pillow, hearing a weird crunching noise. Dick lifted his pillow up, finding an envelope and a chocolate bar. On the front of the envelope was scrawled _Ricky_ , one of the many nicknames Lewis had taken to calling Dick. Despite being alone, Dick blushed and opened the envelope.

Happy Christmas, Dick. Found this candy in the kitchen. Thought you'd like it.

Currahee and all that.

-Nix

Dick didn't do anything for a while. He just looked from the card to the candy and back again. Something warm was spreading over him, from his ears to his toes. A feeling was bubbling to the surface, a feeling Dick thought had been there for a while. But no, Dick couldn't think about that right now. He pulled Nix's gloves off and tore into the candy bar. It was warm and melted in his mouth. Dick sat up and ate the whole bar in a minute. The warm feeling had settled in his lower belly.

Suddenly feeling manic and slightly feverish, Dick changed out of his fatigues and pulled on some standard issue shorts and a white tee shirt with a light jacket thrown over it. However, in his rush to quiet his racing mind, Nix's gloves remained forgotten on Dick's bed.

"Sir?" Eugene Roe's drawling accent echoed in the bathroom stall. It was Christmas Day, about three in the afternoon. Dick was sprawled on the bathroom floor, his head spinning. "Do you need me to get you something?" Eugene knelt down besides Dick. "God did Luz sneeze on you or somethin'?" Dick just wanted Roe to stop asking questions.

"Roe, please, you're talking too fast." Dick had to be the biggest idiot in Georgia. When he went out running a couple nights ago, the night Nix had given him his gloves and specifically told him how cold it could get at night, Dick decided to run in shorts and no gloves. He had even taken off his jacket half way through. Then Dick got caught in a cold blowing rain. He was lucky he didn't have pneumonia.

"Well you can't stay on the floor, sir," Roe went to reach for Dick, but Dick waved him off. "Dick, you have to move, the floor is cold." Every time Dick moved his head he caught a wave of nausea and his stomach threatened to blow chunks. Not that much would come up. He hadn't eaten since last night when he was with Roe and the others. They had ham and mashed potatoes, treats from Colonel Sink, and much to the dismay of Captain Sobel. Unfortunately Dick threw that up in the early hours of Christmas morning.

"I can't move Roe, my head will explode." Dick closed his eyes, trying to get the world to stop wobbling. He felt hot. He probably looked ridiculous, with his flushed face, hollow eyes, and bright red hair sticking all over the place. He probably looked like a troll.

All of the sudden he was being yanked up to his knees. His head jerked violently and hit the side of the stall. He gripped the toilet sit in a fit of vertigo. His vision went black momentarily.

"You're in a bad way," Eugene's voice sounded far away. "What in God's name did you do, lay out in the rain naked for two hours?" Dick weakly laughed at that imagery.

"Just help me back to my bunk." At this point Dick hoped he'd pass out, preferably for a couple of days.

Roe was small but strong and he half dragged Dick back to his bunk. Almost no one was in the barracks. Christmas music played in the mess hall and Colonel Sink had set up a bar for the men. Hopefully they'd be gone for a while so Dick could sleep.

"I'll be right back." Roe went to his bunk where he had a whole bunch of medical supplies. Although he wasn't done with training, he regularly carried supplies around. Dick didn't think there'd be anything of use. He wasn't bleeding out. Although he probably wouldn't say no to some morphine. "Open up," Roe was holding out some pills for Dick. He dry swallowed them, the pills scraping down his esophagus. "It's only pain reliever, but hopefully you'll sleep."

"Thanks Doc," Dick smiled feebly, pulling the blanket up around his chin. "Now go enjoy the holiday, no need to waste any more of it."

"You sure, Dick?" Roe looked doubtful, but he glanced longingly at the door. Dick knew he wanted to go hang out with Heffron.

"Yeah of course." Dick took a deep breath.

"Well alright, feel better then." Roe took one last concerned look at him and slowly went for the door. Dick waved and closed his eyes. His cheeks felt like fire but waves of chills sped down his shoulders and back up to his head. His head felt like it was swimming in mucus and his stomach was knotting and unknotting.

Dick didn't know how much time had passed. He drifted in and out of consciousness. He didn't dream when he was asleep, it was a dead sleep that left him more tired than before. Sometimes he felt like he was on fire, and other times it felt like his bones were made of snow. Dick thought maybe an hour had passed, but it could've been a day for all he knew.

Finally, when Dick woke next, he felt like he had slept longer than the other times. His head felt like lead, and he was pretty sure his fever was staying put. His throat felt like sand. Dick slowly inched up into a sitting position. He stared into space. When he got up to get water, he put his jacket on and wrapped his two blankets around him as well. Since he hadn't filled his canteen up that day, he'd have to trek all the way across the room to the water fountain, a feat that seemed almost impossible at the moment.

Dick's bare feet tensed against the cold floor, but somehow he made it there. He drank and drank and drank until he needed to stop for a breath. Then he drank some more. _I'm going to have to get back up to pee_ , he thought. Life was really unfair sometimes. Dick kept drinking though, his thirst seemingly unquenchable.

When Dick turned back to go to his bed, he noticed it was still light outside. The clock on the wall read 5:11. He had only been in bed for two hours. Dick thought that if he was feeling better he'd go to the front of the camp and wait for Nix to get back. Now he wouldn't be able to see him. Dick collapsed back on his bed, still wrapped in his jacket and blankets.

Two hours later (or was it three?), Dick woke up, a long line of saliva stuck to his pillow. Dick was sprawled on his stomach, and his muscles ached. He must have not moved the entire time he was sleeping. He shivered, and stuck his face into his pillow.

"You actually got sick." A slurred voice said. Dick lifted his head, looking beside him. Lounging in a chair next to him was Nixon, in his dress uniform. Dick thought he looked great. He had an incredulous look on his face.

"Hey, Nix." Dick's voice sounded ungodly. Even after all that water he drank, he still sounded like someone had ripped his lungs out and then forcefully stuck them back in. His head was starting to feel heavy, so he put it back on his pillow.

"It's all that running, Dick," Nix swayed slightly as he kneeled down by Dick. "If you had just done the bare minimum, like me, you'd be dancing with all the other boys in the mess hall right now." Nix's voice was loose and low. Dick liked it.

Dick sat up slowly. "I need to go to the bathroom." All that water had gone straight through him.

"Put some socks on first," Nix's voice had gotten serious, and he leapt up to grab a pair from under Dick's bunk. "It's important," Nix paused, searching for a word. "Your feet-important."

"How drunk are you?"

"Well, I just spent two days with my family."

"Okay, just give me my socks." Nix tossed Dick's socks to him. He stood up and took his jacket and hat off and tossed them on the vacant bunk above Dick's bed.

"You're lucky no one sleeps above you," Nix watched Dick struggle to put his socks on. "The guy above me snores all night." Nix loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Dick ignored Nix and stood up. Everything went blurry for a fleeting moment, and he was afraid he'd tip over. "Woah there, Ricky." Nix put a hand on Dick's shoulder.

Dick rolled his eyes at yet another nickname. He started to shuffle away to the bathroom. Nix followed closely behind him. Dick could smell whiskey on his breath and rain on his hair.

When he made it to the bathroom and relieved himself, he felting an incessant pulling in his stomach.

"Oh no." He said softly. The pulling was becoming more urgent and saliva started coating his mouth. He turned towards Nix, who was watching with concern.

"Dick…?" Nix put his hand on Dick's arm.

"Lew I'm gonna—." Dick lurched all over Nix's dress shirt and spun away from him, stuffing his head in the nearest toilet. Dick retched and the sounds echoed off the walls. It was mostly water, but even after there was nothing left to puke up, his body shook with dry heaves. Dick could hear Nixon turn on the sink, wetting a paper towel. Dick was mortified. He glanced over at Nix, and noticed that thankfully he hadn't really gotten much on him. He stuck his head back in the toilet though, shamefully.

"You know I think the true mark of friendship is when one friend pukes on the other and they don't even get mad," Nix put the wet paper towel on the back of Dick's neck. "Now all I have to do is puke on you." Nix grinned. Dick was about to retort when nausea set in again. Nix kept his hand firmly on Dick's back, and Dick's face grew warm with something other than fever.

Eventually, Dick's body collapsed with exhaustion. Nix went to help him back up, but Dick stopped him. "I can't move, Lew, it hurts." Dick lay sprawled on his back, the cool floor soothing him. Dick heard Nix's low chuckle.

"Okay." Nix slide behind Dick and before he knew what was happening, Dick's head was resting in Nix's lap. "We can stay here for a little bit." Dick thought he would actually die. He tried to lie very still, he tried not to snuggle his head in Nix's fresh smelling pants. When Nix ran his fingers through Dick's hair a couple of times, Dick was convinced he _had_ died.

Dick must have fallen asleep, because suddenly he was being put back into his bunk by Nix. Nix had wrapped him back in his jacket, put both blankets over him, and then laid his own jacket on top, creating a cocoon of warmth. Dick pretended to still be asleep, and watched Nix through half shut eyes. Nix was slowly unlacing his boots, his fingers slow and languid. He undid the buttons on his dress shirt and tossed it on the ground, so all he had on was his white undershirt. Dick saw the gleam of his dog tags around his neck. Nix took off his belt and socks as well. Nix glanced down and saw Dick's eyes were opened a crack.

"Hey, you." Nix's smile crinkled beautifully.

"Are you staying here tonight?" Dick tried not to sound like a child, but failed.

"Yeah, I'll be on nurse duty, I think." Nix sat down in the chair.

"Look in my footlocker."

"Why?"

"Just do your sick friend a favor." Dick motioned for him to get up. Nix got up and kneeled beside the trunk. He opened it and found a folded piece of paper with his name on it. Nix smiled up at Dick, but Dick didn't see. His eyes were closed again. Nix opened the paper:

Nix-

I had Colonel Sink make me a copy of my dog tag. Sink says he gave his friends a copy of his tags, so someone else would always have his name. I think he said it was for good luck. Merry Christmas, and thanks for the chocolate.

-Dick

Nix glanced up at Dick, the dog tag in his hand. He had a look on his face that Dick hadn't ever seen before. For one frightening second Dick thought Nix was going to cry. Why on Earth would Nix cry at a Christmas present? Dick inhaled nervously, suddenly worried giving him his dog tag (even just a copy) was weird. It was true; Colonel Sink had done the same thing, but nearly twenty years earlier. He had also given them to a whole group of his friends, not one specific guy. Dick knew there was a lot more meaning behind his gift. He hoped Nix wouldn't guess what that meaning was.

Nix reached up to his dog tags, and snapped one off. He then put Dick's in his pocket, and set his own on top of Dick's footlocker.

"Nix, the point of dog tags is to have two of your own." Dick tried to hide his smile.

"You know, they do give us more than one set." Nix's hand was in his pocket, rubbing the lettering of Dick's name.

Dick sighed. "Thanks, Lew."

"No, thank you, Dick," Nix looked like he was going to confess something. "I didn't want to get stuck with Speirs as my best friend." Although Dick knew they were best friends, his face warmed when Nix said that. Before Dick could reply, Nix stood up and patted Dick on the head. Then he climbed onto the top bunk and got under the covers.

Dick heard him shuffle around and get comfortable. He waited until he heard Nix's soft steady breathing. Once he was sure Nix was asleep, he leaned up and reached for Nix's dog tag on top of his footlocker. He looked at the name: _Lewis Nixon III_. Dick didn't know he was the third Lewis Nixon. Dick wondered what else he didn't know about Nix. Dick could think of a couple of things Nix didn't know about him. As Dick rolled onto his side, he thought about the biggest thing; that Dick was without a doubt head over heels for Nix.


	3. Chapter 3

August 1943

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Winters." Colonel Sink pinned the silver pin onto Dick's lapel.

"Thank you, sir." Dick saluted the colonel and Captain Sobel, who was standing with them. After almost a year at Camp Toccoa, Dick had finally been promoted to 1st Lieutenant. Now he would lead men in title as well as spirit.

"We expect hard work from you, Winters," Sobel seemed to glare at him. "We'll need you to keep this one in check." Sobel rudely pointed a thumb at Nixon, who had also been promoted to 1st Lieutenant. Nix gave Dick a shit eating grin, and happily saluted Sobel. Dick thought the captain was being a bit unfair. Yeah, sure, Nix had stolen booze with Ronald Speirs when they first got to camp, but Sobel didn't slight Speirs, in fact everyone knew Sobel liked Ron. Probably because Ron was born a soldier, and he could scare enemies away just by glancing at them. Dick knew Nix didn't care, but it bothered him anyway.

"I look forward to following Dick's every move, Captain Sobel." Nix moved next to Dick, who was trying hard not to guffaw.

"Alright, enough." Colonel Sink knew when Nix was messing with Sobel, and although he probably thought it was funny, he knew it was important to keep relationships as friendly as possible. Poor Sobel had no sense of humor, and therefore couldn't tell when he was being made fun of.

Dick shot a warning glance at Nix, hoping he would stay silent. Nix shot his eyebrows up in mock offense.

"Since you two have been promoted, I think it's appropriate to tell you that Easy Company will be leaving for England soon," Dick and Nix stopped making faces at each other and looked up. "The Allies are planning a full invasion of Europe. Easy will go to England to wait." Sobel stood up to his full height, his thin mouth going tight with discipline.

"When will the other men be told?" Nixon hid his emotions well, but Dick thought maybe he could sense just a twinge of fear.

"Two days from now. I'm coming to tell them myself." Sink looked grim. He had already seen the First World War tear men apart and leave nothing but blood and bone behind. Now he was getting ready to send more young men to their graves. Dick supposed he was used to it. This was the way of the world.

"Do we have a timeline for the invasion yet?" Nix was helping himself to a glass of Sink's whiskey. He had gone into full intelligence officer mode. He took a big gulp from his drink and pulled out a notebook that was stuffed inside his cargo pocket.

"Nothing specific yet. We know we're going to try to take Normandy. Hitler will be expecting us to go through Calais, so most of the Germans will be there," Sink's face lit up, "Oh, and General Patton isn't going."

"Why on God's green Earth?" Dick wondered whose voice had gone crackly when he realized he was the one talking.

"There was an incident with a soldier, he's been returned to England," Colonel Sink stared at his boots. "The higher ups will find use for him."

"He is the higher up, Colonel." Nix's voice was calm and quiet. Sobel looked at the three of them, confusedly. Dick knew he was trying to add something useful to the conversation, but nothing came. Captain Sobel was tough and mean, an effective trainer. As a soldier however, he lacked the prowess and tactical skills that would allow him to be successful in war.

"It doesn't matter right now, Nixon. All that matters is keeping the men in tip top shape," Colonel Sink nodded at Dick and Nix, then indicated for Sobel to follow him out the door. "I'll be in contact." He said to Nix.

Once Sobel and Sink had gone, Dick sat on the armchair of Nix's seat. Nix was jotting down things in his notebook distractedly. Dick thought about the gravity of his situation. He had finally been promoted. He could finally effectively lead Easy Company. Europe loomed out before them, just waiting to be liberated. But Dick had never wanted to be a soldier. When he left the United States, he might never see it again. Bile rose up in Dick's throat. He couldn't think about that too much, or he wouldn't stand a chance.

Dick and Nix didn't say anything to each other. Nix drank some more whiskey, looking out the window. It was a bright and sunny August day. Georgia looked gorgeous, its summer plumage bursting from trees and flowers. The wind blew gently, stirring up the red dust. Dick had come to love Georgia, in a weird way. Now he was going to leave it. Again, Dick had to remind himself to stop thinking. He walked over to Nix, staring at the men running laps outside.

"I hear the women in England are very friendly," Nixon went for his third whiskey. "But they drink their beer warm." Nixon made a gagging sound. Dick had to laugh.

"Everyone will be happy for a change of pace." Dick said decidedly. They were going to have to go sometime. Might as well be now.

"Hopefully Sobel won't be assigned to go with us," Nix grumbled. "He hates me. I don't know why, seeing as he worships Speirs. It's because they're both so serious." Nix's voice lowered on the word serious and he sprawled back onto the arm chair.

"Don't let him hear you say that, he'll really hate you." Dick worried about Nix shooting off his mouth around authority figures. He didn't seem to realize he could get into real trouble.

Nixon put his arm around Dick and they walked to the door. Ever since Christmas, Dick had been extra sensitive when Nix touched him. Whenever he did, goosebumps would appear on his skin, and his face would overheat. Try as he might, he couldn't shake his feelings.

When they got outside, Nix said something about needing to go check in with the other intelligence officers. He left Dick to wander alone.

Dick did circles around the camp. He thought about Nix, like always. Having feelings for him came in waves. Sometimes it felt like they were just friends, and Dick could be casual and free with him. They went to classes together, trained together, and ate together. Everyone knew Nix and Dick stuck to each other's sides, but that wasn't all that unusual. Malarkey and Muck were like twins. Liebgott and Webster were joined at the hip, God knows why. Webster was a Harvard man and wrote about his feelings in a journal every day. Liebgott was scrappy and tough. People wouldn't expect it from such a small guy, but he was driven to be one of the best soldiers in Easy. Somehow, they fit together.

Dick thought about how different he and Nix were. Nix had been to France and Germany and Italy. He loved classical and jazz music. He loved cities. Dick was a country guy; he loved swimming in ponds and the wide open land of Pennsylvania. Yet, like Liebgott and Webster, they stuck together.

But Webster probably wasn't in love with Liebgott. Dick felt bitterness swell up inside of him. He didn't think his feelings were necessarily wrong, he just couldn't believe he had gotten himself in such a mess.

A while later, on his way to the showers, Dick passed by Sobel's office. The door was swung wide open. He could hear raised voices.

"This was your idea!" Sobel's voiced peeled through the air. Dick marched up to the door, positioning himself just out of eyesight.

"Sir, I did not put this idea in the men's heads," Dick recognized Nix's voice. "Bull, what do you know of this?" Dick shifted so he could see Bull and Nix, both backing away slightly from Sobel. There was silence.

"Leave, Randleman." Sobel dismissed Bull. There was a pause, and Bull clunked out of the door. Dick stopped him and pulled him to the wall.

"What's going on Bull?" Dick made sure to keep his voice down.

"A bunch of Easy men got sick of Sobel's harsh practices," Bull glanced backwards. "They sent letters to Sink, declaring that they would not serve Easy with him in control." Bull lit a cigar and stared patiently at Dick.

"Who started it?" Dick could understand the motive, but thought Easy's men were being exceptionally stupid.

"I don't know, sir," Dick thought maybe Randleman did know, but he respected the loyalty he was showing. "But I'll tell you what, it sure wasn't Lieutenant Nixon. He may be wild, but he ain't dumb." Bull's voice drawled and he exhaled a huge puff of smoke.

"Sobel just wants a scapegoat. Thank you Randleman." Dick nodded and Bull sidled away, no doubt going to tell Johnny Martin and the others about what was happening. Dick was so lost in thought he didn't hear the voices screaming from inside the office. Of course the boys wouldn't get away with quitting Easy over one harsh officer. They were so close to shipping out, how would they ever replace an entire company? Maybe that was the point. Sink couldn't just kick the whole company out—

There was a great crash in the office. Dick heard papers flying and glasses breaking, finished by a colossal thud. He raced into the room.

"I'm still the ranking officer, and you will follow my orders." Sobel's hand was raised in a fist. Nixon lay on the ground. He had fallen into a table and shattered the legs. Glass poked out of his hand from where it had collided with Sobel's drinking glasses. Nix was rubbing his temple, which had a tiny trail of blood running its length. Dick knew he'd have a black eye.

"Captain Sobel?" Dick's voice was loud and authoritarian. Sobel outranked him, but Dick didn't care. He got close to him and looked him straight in the eye. "You injured one of Easy's officers. One of Easy's respected officers. For what reason?" Sobel backed up as Dick got closer.

"He planned a mutiny against me, Winters."

"Lieutenant," Nix's voice came from the floor. "He's a lieutenant now." Nix laughed once, his hand over his eye.

Dick raced over to Nix and put his hands on his shoulders. Dick's face was flushed with concern, and he gently pulled back Nixon's hand. Sobel had clipped his left temple and eye. There was an odd shaped mark where blood spotted his face. Dick glanced back over at Sobel's hand. He had a ring on. Dick fumed.

"You could've done serious damage with that thing, Captain," Dick's voice was strained as he continued to assess Nix's face. Nix wouldn't look at Dick. "If you had hit him squarely in the temple, he would've gone down."

"I think he already did." Sobel's voice was slick with satisfaction.

"You've really lost Easy now, Captain!" Alex Penkala's voice rang through the stiff air. Several men were now gathered at the door, having heard Nixon crash through the table. Penkala bummed around with Malarkey and Muck, who were standing behind him, whispering. He was quiet, but always spoke his mind.

"You think this will inspire loyalty?" Eugene Roe had walked in and was knelt down by Nix's injured hand, trying to pick glass out of it.

"You guys, I'm fine." Nixon's voice was soft, and he spoke with his head down. Dick could see the embarrassment written all over his face.

"Penkala, call Sink, right now." Roe glared at Sobel, who stood by his desk and removed his ring. Penkala, Malarkey, and Muck took off running. Roe went back to Nix's hand. Dick had placed his hand on the side of Nix's face, which had gone pale. "Dick, hold him steady, there's one long shard I'll have to pull out." Dick put his arm around Nix's shoulders and grabbed his uninjured hand in his.

Roe pulled tweezers out of his pocket and gripped a particularly nasty piece of glass out of Nix's hand. Nix tensed for a moment.

"It's okay, Lew." Dick squeezed Nix's hand a bit, but Nix shrunk away from Dick. Dick tried not to be disappointed.

Sobel was seated at his desk, rummaging through papers. He was sweating though, and he had removed his hat.

"You won't need stitches, but be careful with that hand for a while." Roe had finished and put a bandage on the side of Nix's hand. He stood up and looked at the mess on the floor. Glass mixed with slivers of wood, and spilled liquid dampened the carpet Lew sat on. Roe looked almost as angry as Dick.

Dick helped Nix up, and they marched out of Sobel's office, slamming the door behind them. It wasn't until they were halfway to headquarters that Dick remembered to let go of Nix's hand.

That night, all the Easy Company men stopped by Nixon's bunk to tell him what they thought of Sobel. Insults whirled through the air, boots stomped angrily, and everyone made sure to tell Lewis that Sobel had gotten lucky, that he had caught Lewis off-guard with that hit. To his credit, Lewis was very gracious, and even made a few jokes, but he wouldn't catch Dick's eye, and his leg bounced continuously.

When they had all finally left to eat or train or sleep, Nix and Dick made their way to Dick's barrack, where it was relatively quieter. Nix sat in the same chair he always sat in, which was permanently pulled up to Dick's bed. Dick came up and pressed his hand to Nix's temple. Dick warmed when he felt Nix put his head into his hand, just slightly. His eyes were closed and he seemed more tired than Dick had ever seen him.

"They'll transfer him, at the least." Dick said quietly. When Colonel Sink had found out what happened, he was furious, but hid it well. Sobel had been sent into his office and hadn't come out for hours.

"Dick," Nix's voice was weary and he looked pleadingly up. He looked like he was going to confess something. "He's a good shot." Lewis let a smirk out, despite his obvious shame. Dick threaded his fingers through Nix's hair. He wondered if Webster ever did this to Liebgott. Probably not.

"What happened?" Nix gave him a puzzled look. "I mean what did you say right before he gave you that shiner?" Dick's attempt at humor went unnoticed.

"Sobel had ordered me to discipline the men who had written the letters saying they quit Easy," Nix held back a smile. "I said I wouldn't punish the men without any cause."

Dick sighed, "Nixon." He was exasperated. And proud. He pulled his hand out of Nix's dark hair and sat across from him.

"I can't be Captain America like you, Dick." Nix loosened his tie and started to take off his boots. Dick knew that meant that Nix would be crashing on the top bunk. They had fallen into this pattern. Every other night Nix would dutifully follow Dick to his barrack, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. Dick knew he had probably made up the longing stares that ran between him and Nix during bedtime. None of the other men said anything either. Everyone knew how close they were. But as Dick went take his tie off for him, like he'd done numerous times before, Nix suddenly jerked away. He stopped untying his boots.

"I better get going." Nix stood up, his voice breathless.

"Oh."

"I just want Sink to be able to find me when he awards me a purple heart." Nix waited for Dick to laugh. He didn't. Dick didn't want to explain that he was still angry at Sobel, not only because he had hit Nix, but that someone who commanded soldiers could act so cruelly. It was reckless, it was unprofessional. And yes, he was mad because it was Nix. Dick didn't like how casual Nix was being.

"He might check here first, considering how much you sleep here." Dick's voice was thick with something. Disappointment, irritation, exhaustion. He regarded Nixon with almost no expression.

Nix looked uncomfortable. Dick waited for him to retort, but for once, Nix had nothing to say. He looked around, as if hoping words would come running to his mouth.

Dick tutted. "I'll see you later, Lew." He knew they both needed some sleep. It had been an eventful day. Nix attempted a smile, but quit halfway through and turned on his heel for the door. Dick gratefully undressed and got under his covers.

Dick thought about England, then Sobel, then Lew. He thought about Lew's swollen eye and he thought about Sobel's ring. He thought about invading Europe, and circled back to Lew. The last image he saw before he went to bed was Lew with his hand over his battered eye, looking helplessly from Dick to Roe, and back again.


	4. Chapter 4

"Nah, I haven't seen 'im." George Luz was the fourth person who hadn't seen Nix. Dick had been looking for a half hour.

Roe looked away from Babe Heffron for a second to say, "Cheer up, sir, I'm sure he's just with the other intelligence officers," Roe smiled sympathetically at Dick. Heffron was poking the side of Roe's head with a pen, trying to get his attention. Roe swatted his hand away but was grinning at Heffron. Dick wished he could sit down and join them, but was already late for a meeting with Colonel Sink.

Dick walked out into the cool autumn sun. In less than a month, they'd be in England. From there, they'd drop in on France. Hopefully before the end of 1944 they'd be in Germany. But that was a long way off.

For the past month, Nix had been avoiding Dick. Sure, they still hung around each other, they were paired up for training together, and they both had the same friends. Nix remained happy and cracked jokes regularly. He also excelled with the intelligence officers, and was given a lot more responsibility as of late. It was natural that he would be busier than before. Dick himself led the men on training excursions, ran them up Currahee, and met regularly with Sink to talk about the Normandy invasion. Still, Nix never came over to Dick's bunk anymore, he never met him on Currahee during Dick's late night runs. Although lighthearted with Dick, Nix seemed distracted, and often left Dick just when they met up together. Dick was starting to get nervous. He didn't want to go to England when it felt like there was a weird distance between them. He couldn't lose Lew before they got to the war. _Was_ he losing Lew?

Dick's thoughts halted when he got to Sink's office. He was there to talk about the Sobel incident. Sobel had already been moved to another training camp, about a week after it happened. Dick was careful to keep his anger in check, both for Nix's sake and his. He knew Nix hated when people fawned over him. Dick always hated that. Lew thought he didn't deserve people taking care of him, but Dick knew if Sobel had hit anyone else in the company, Nix would be the first to go to Sink.

Dick saluted Colonel Sink and sat down opposite his desk. Sink's office was made of dark wood, a whole wall held books and journals. Sink was a good spirited man and was known to joke around with the guys. He regularly sat in on classes and even went up to Currahee every once in a while. He was the exact opposite of Sobel. Sink had beautiful ornate decanters in the back corner of his office. His past medals and awards hung on the far wall, gleaming in the lamp light. Dick respected the hell out of Sink, as he was both tough and understanding with the men he commanded, Dick included.

"How are you Dick?" Sink was shuffling through papers on his desk, but he looked attentive and authentic.

"I'm very well sir." Except the man I'm in love with is ignoring me and we're about to go to war. Dick took a deep breath in.

"How are the men?"

"They're eager to get to England sir." When Sink told them they'd be shipping out in the fall, everyone whooped and hollered. Even serious Johnny Martin smiled.

Sink grunted knowingly. "I'm sure they are. They're probably happier that Sobel isn't commanding them," There was an awkward pause. "You've read over the report I sent to you?" Sink knew he had, but asked anyways.

"Yes, sir, I've had all the men sign it, too, so we can finally lay it to rest." All Dick wanted was to forget it even happened.

"Good," Sink stood up and walked over to Dick's chair. "And what about Nixon? How's he doing?" Dick was afraid he'd ask him that.

"I think he's okay, Colonel," Dick stood up, eager to leave. "Truth be told I haven't seen much of him in the past month," He wasn't trying to whine, but it sure sounded like whining to his ears. "That intelligence job of his sure keeps him busy." Dick forced himself to stay still and not bolt for the door.

Sink looked dubious, and Dick knew he was a bad liar. Sink could see right through him, he could see the worry and frustration. Graciously, though, Sink didn't call attention to Dick's mood. Instead he sent Dick on his way, saluting as Dick opened his door.

"Hang tough, Lieutenant." Were Sink's parting words. Dick nodded, feeling weirder than before.

The rest of the day was spent out in the hills of Georgia, running drills and shooting rifles. Dick was in his element, commanding men, leading them through fake battles, which would be real before long. It was physical work, and Dick was happy for the exhaustion that hit him when the day was done. For a while he had forgotten to worry about Lew.

In the showers, Dick washed dirt and dried sweat off himself, relishing the quiet of the showers. One thing Dick missed about Pennsylvania was the lakes. Dick spent half his childhood swimming and fishing. Dick lived by a little lake, which was warm for half the year sometimes. He loved squishing his toes in the black mud, and lying on his back, floating and looking at the clear sky. Sometimes he would go at night and stare up at the stars. He didn't know much about constellations, so he would make his own. Dick sighed, wishing he was home just long enough to swim.

There was a clamoring and laughs from just outside the showers. Ron Speirs jumped in, turning on a shower head. Ron waved at Dick, and then continued his conversation with whoever was getting undressed outside the shower.

"So like I said, those guys in the pacific are just being torn apart on tiny islands, just sitting ducks for the Japs," Ron shampooed his head. "That's where I want to be, not in some European town fifteen minutes from Paris. That's not where the real heroes go."

"You got a real complex going on there, Speirs," Carwood Lipton, an Easy officer had hopped in the shower besides him. "What could be more heroic than kicking the Nazis ass?" Lipton was short and had sandy hair. From the outside he didn't look that threatening, but he was a hell of a good officer.

"By the time we get to Europe, the war will already be over, especially with the Russians blowing themselves and the Germans up," Speirs turned to Lipton, "Especially with what went down in Stalingrad. The whole city, just, poof." Dick had never heard Speirs talk so much. Dick turned his shower off and began toweling dry. He didn't want to think about the war anymore.

"But Nixon said we have to invade, otherwise no one will be able to break through to Germany."

"Well, he was probably drunk when he said that," Lipton glared at Speirs. "But yeah, he's an intelligence officer, so he probably knows something."

"Lip?" Dick pulled on his clothes over still damp skin.

"Hey Dick, what's up?" Lipton's smile was open and friendly. Dick always really liked Lipton. It was weird he hung around Speirs so much.

"You seen Nix lately?" Dick tried to seem casual.

"Last I saw he was still over at intelligence headquarters." Lipton turned back to Speirs. Dick smiled to himself. The one place Dick hadn't thought to check was the place Nixon worked. Why would he ever be there past sundown?

Winding down the gravel road towards the intelligence building, Dick saw other men in the mess hall laughing and smoking. He saw Bill and Joe Toye throwing peanuts at each other, trying to catch them in their mouths. Dick rolled his eyes when they smacked into each other, not looking where they were walking. There was a roar in the hall from the other men.

Dick walked up to the door, but looked in the window first. He saw the shadow of Nix, leaned over his desk in concentration. There was only one lamp on; Dick couldn't understand how Dick could see. Maps were sprawled over the desk and floor, and Dick noticed his boots were tossed aside, and Lew walked around in his bare feet.

Before Dick walked through the door, the air around him felt thicker, muggier. Filled with a mist of intention, of words that stuck in Dick's throat. He watched Nix for a long time, working on his maps. Nix's eyebrows knit together as he looked at this paper or the next. There was a glass of whiskey next to him, like always, but the glass was still half full, so Dick knew Nix actually had a lot of work to do. Nix's hair fell in his face, and every few minutes Nix would run his hand through it. There was a swell of affection in Dick's chest. It wedged up against his ribs painfully. He thought he might burst if he looked much longer, yet his eyes remained fixed on his best friend.

Dick had to tell Nix about his feelings. He had to. There was no way he could go into World War II with a secret like this. He couldn't die without Nix knowing. Dick was fairly confident Nix wouldn't report him, and he may even remain friends with Dick, if he had caught Nix in a good mood. Hopefully he had drunk more than just a half glass of whiskey. Dick went to step inside the office.

"Hey, Lieutenant Winters," Ronald Speirs came up behind Dick. "Can I talk to you for a second?" Dick let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding in. He wanted to act irritated for interrupting him, but secretly he was relieved. Dick looked around for Lipton, but didn't find him. Being alone with Speirs made him feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Yes, of course, Ron," Dick swiveled to glance at the window once more. Nix was refilling his glass, his face turned away from them. "What is it? Lipton getting on your nerves?" Dick tried to be funny again. He really should stop that.

"I talked to Lew." Lew. Dick hadn't heard anyone else call him that before.

"Okay." Dick waited for Ron to continue.

"I know he's been avoiding you. Everyone does," Dick blushed slightly. For a heartbeat Dick thought the whole company knew he had been mooning over Lew. Ron continued, "We all thought it was unfair, since you were with him when Sobel went nuts," Ron's eyes shot up to the window, then back at Dick. "I wanted to see what he was thinking."

"I was guessing it was his pride," Dick's voice was gruff. "He didn't want people fighting his battles for him, as it were." Dick's voice sounded bitter.

Ron's eyes gleamed with secrets. "No. I suppose he doesn't," Dick waited for more. "He's kind of in a funk right now anyways."

"Why?"

"I think this war's got him confused," Ron's eyes cut holes in Dick. "Or maybe he's just gained clarity." Dick stared at Speirs. When he didn't say anything else, Dick huffed. He didn't want to deal with cryptic nonsense.

"Right." Dick's voice was blank. Ron laughed at Dick's face. It was high-pitched and loud. He looked through the window to Nix, who had heard him. Dick looked between Ron and Nix, who were looking at each other intently. Suddenly Dick was livid. He didn't have a clue what was wrong with Nix, Ron was spinning bullshit, and now Ron and Nix had some secret understanding. He was already fighting a war he didn't have time to figure out Ronald Speirs.

Dick looked at Nix briefly, and he knew he looked angry. Dick marched past Speirs, who seemed to still be beaming messages at Nix. He walked all the way to Currahee, and pulled his dress shirt off, leaving it in the Georgia dust. He started to run.

Dick had probably set a new personal record. He thought of the mantra. _Three miles up. Three miles down._ By the time he got to the top he was breathing hard, harder than he ever remembered. It was a dark cloudless night, with barely any breeze. Dick had no idea what time it was. Maybe it was midnight. He didn't have training tomorrow, just midmorning meetings and then, since it was a Saturday, there'd be a movie shown in the gym. Dick didn't need sleep for any of that.

Dick couldn't seem to catch his breath. The air seemed thinner up here, and he collapsed onto the dirt, taking big gulping breaths. Instead of slowing his breathing, it became shallower and faster. He ears started ringing and his face was hot. He was having some sort of fit. Dick squeezed his eyes shut and dug his hands in the dirt. He tried to think of something to calm himself down. Anything. He thought of Pennsylvania, or Christmas with the guys. For a second his mind drifted to Lew, drifted to the dog tag Lew had given him, which was on a separate chain Dick never wore in public. But this thought didn't help; it just caused his heart to jump to his throat.

Soon Dick gave in, just stopped thinking about anything at all. _Maybe I'll pass out._ Dick hoped he would. It would be a blessing. Dick forced himself to breathe through his nose. _In and out. In and out._

"Dick?" It was Nixon. He had Dick's dress shirt over his shoulder. Dick didn't say anything, he just fought to snap out of whatever he was going through. "Hey, what's happening? Dick?" Nix was kneeling besides him. He pulled Dick into a sitting position and brushed dirt and grass off of him.

Dick finally seemed to be able to talk again. "Late night?" There were so many things Dick wanted to say to him.

"Uhh," Nix seemed thrown for a loop. "You mean, at the office?" Nix's voice raised in a joke. He placed a ginger hand on Dick's shoulder. Dick's breath finally slowed down, but his heart continued to bang in his chest. It felt like it would burst through his ribs.

"I was going to stop by," Dick thought about all the things he was going to say. "Something came up." Nix snorted. Clearly they were dancing circles around each other.

"Are you okay?" That question caught Dick off guard. "You were just kind of writhing around on top of this goddamned mountain, Dick." That was a fair point. However, Dick knew he had to keep the conversation on Lewis. He wouldn't go to England without Nix as his firm companion. He needed to know if Nix was running away from him.

"Have you been avoiding me?" Dick always appreciated how straight forward he could be. It was a good trait in a leader. Nix didn't say anything. He looked down, pulled at some nearby grass. So Dick went on. "It just seems like," Pause. "You never sleep in my barracks anymore, we don't run together anymore. You talked to Speirs before me and-"

"What did he tell you?" Dick could tell Nix was trying to be casual.

"He just said he talked to you after what happened with Sobel," Nix waited with baited breath. "Said you were in some kind of funk." _You were confused, or had reached clarity._

"You're my best friend Dick," Nix was earnest. "Maybe I was dealing with going to war by distancing myself from important people." Nixon looked like a young kid in the moonlight. His dark hair swooped over his forehead; his shoulders were rolled forward, hiding their true width. Dick foolishly thought he looked beautiful.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." Dick meant it. He saw a crushed looked in Nix's eyes and he scooched over to him.

"That's me, making dumb decision since 1918." Nix smiled, but it was didn't reach his eyes. Dick sighed. He was in deep.

"Just don't do that to me again."

"What?"

"Talk to Speirs before me." Dick bit his lip at his cheekiness. Nix rolled his eyes and flung his arm around Dick's shoulders. Dick leaned into Nix, unable to stop himself. Dick looked over at Nix, just taking him in. Dick thought of all that lay ahead of them.

"Have you ever been to England, Lew?"

"Once. Went to London with my cousins."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah," Nix looked over at Dick, their faces inches apart. "I suppose it's a lot different now."

"Yeah." Dick couldn't think of anything good to say. He wanted to ask Lew to take him there. He wanted to see London with Nix. He wanted to hear him talk about the history and buildings and people they saw. But he didn't ask him. Instead he allowed Nix to pull him up, and walk him down Currahee.

Once at the door of Dick's barrack, Dick asked Nix to stay. "Just one more slumber party before we go to England?" Dick's smile was sleepy and sweet.

Later, when Nix was asleep on the top bunk, Dick got up quietly to sit by the window. Everyone else had been asleep for hours. He looked up at the sky, counting stars. He wondered what the stars looked like in Europe.

"You two made up I see." Eugene Roe stood by the bathroom door, his pajamas wrinkled and slept in. He had a small smile on his face.

"I'm not sure what you mean." Dick knew what he meant.

"You know," Roe's Cajun voice rolled and licked in the air. "When you're out in combat, when bullets are whizzing by your thick head," Roe pointed back to Dick's bunk bed. "You're gonna realize what is important in this life."

Roe hadn't ever insulted Dick before. "I know."

"But the thing is, sir," Roe glanced in Babe Heffron's direction. "You oughta know before the bullets come," Roe looked otherworldly, his eyes knowing wisdom beyond this Earth. "You oughta know before it's too late."


	5. Chapter 5

Fall, 1943

Eugene Roe's words stuck in Dick's head all the way to England. _You oughta know._ Dick did know what was important. He knew Lew was the most important person in his life. But other things were important. Being a leader was important. Doing what's right was important. How was he supposed to juggle being in love and fighting a war? Maybe if he was in love with a woman, everything would make sense.

In England, Dick was busy all day, looking after the men and running drills. Colonel Sink was looking to promote him to captain. Lewis was excelling in his role as intelligence operator. The men of Easy Company had never been in better shape, despite their near constant clowning around. Dick was confident in each and every soldier he guided.

The company was staying in the middle of England, in a village called Aldbourne. It was small and picturesque, with friendly locals. Dick had befriended a woman named Emma Sharpe, who had taken a liking to Bill, and so she was around regularly. She brought bread and knitted mittens. Dick had made Bill wear the mittens, much to his horror.

On a rainy Tuesday in November, everyone got a nasty shock in the form of Captain Sobel. Right before Dick was about to take a squad out for a navigating mission, an all too familiar voice rang out in the English countryside.

"Lieutenant Winters," Sobel appeared like a ghost. "I'm here to run this mission with you." Sobel quickly threw a salute Dick's way.

"Captain Sobel," Dick saluted back. "I didn't know we were to expect you in England." Dick looked at his men and shot a glance at Skip Muck, who was whispering furiously in Don Malarkey's ear.

"I'm here to stay on top of the officer's training," Dick doubted that very much. "So, give me half your men, we'll make a little competition out of this exercise." Sobel actually smiled then, a weird smile that looked like a grimace.

Dick picked men for Sobel (including the whining Guarnere) to lead out. He tried to give Sobel competent men, since Sobel was notoriously bad with a map. How he had ever squirreled his way back into Easy Company, Dick couldn't guess. No doubt Colonel Sink owed someone a favor.

Dick stopped Guarnere before they headed out. "No funny business." Dick looked down at Bill as he was putting on his helmet.

"Funny business, from me?" Dick knew he had just challenged Bill.

"Just, watch it." Dick already wanted today to be over.

"Nah, don't want to get jackhammered like Eyebrows." Bill sauntered away. Dick turned on his heel, trying not to think about Eyebrows.

"Who told you to cut that man's fence?" Colonel Sink's voice boomed in the open field.

"Major Wilkes did, sir." Sobel's voice eked out.

"Major Wilkes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Major Wilkes?"

"Yes." The men of Easy Company fought hard not to burst out in a fit of giggles. Sobel had a bewildered look on his face.

"Major Wilkes is on holiday, attending a wedding in London." Colonel Sink grabbed messages from a runner, sighed at Sobel, and walked back to headquarters without another word.

About halfway through the navigating mission, a voice of one Major Wilkes had urged Sobel to cut a fence to get through a field half the company was stuck in. Sobel had gotten desperately turned around, and ended up on the wrong side of the field. Now, the voice came from behind a bush, but who was Sobel to investigate if the voice was authentic? A gentleman's livestock roamed free as the U.S. Army stormed through. Even with this unorthodox shortcut, Sobel's half of Easy Company was beaten to the target location by Lieutenant Winter's half by a good five minutes. When the man who owned the fence complained about damaged property, Colonel Sink (once again), was furious at Sobel.

Now, Sobel's face looked shocked and confused. He hadn't caught on that someone from Easy had tricked him into believing a Major had joined his mission. Dick watched, almost sympathetically, as Sobel walked back to his office, still not understanding what had happened.

Easy Company screeched with laughter. High fives went all around, and celebratory cigarettes were lit. Bill Guarnere stood in the middle, proud as a peacock. Dick fought to keep from smiling.

"You're lucky Sobel is so devoid of Humor, Bill." Dick murmured to him as he walked by. Bill just grinned widely as Joe Toye slapped him on the back.

Strolling to his office, Dick was thankful he had some free time. Since being promoted, Dick was now a commissioned officer, and was afforded an office and private sleeping quarters. Sometimes he missed being with the other guys, but not tonight. His office was cozy and dark, the perfect place to relax after dealing with Sobel all day.

On top of his oak desk, Dick found an envelope. He recognized the handwriting as Colonel Sink's:

Lieutenant-

For being a strong leader today and patiently beating the crap out of Captain Sobel.

-Colonel Sink.

Inside the envelope were two 48-hour passes for the weekend. He had a weekend off. In England. He had two passes. Dick went red when he realized that Sink probably knew about his affection for Nixon. Maybe not the extent of it, but he certainly knew how much the Sobel incident had effected Lew, and how important Lew was to Dick. No doubt Sink had provided two passes so Dick would be able to be with Nix, alone, for a little while. Ridiculously, Dick hoped Nix would want to go with him.

Dick looked around his small office. It smelled of winter, musk, and cotton sheets. On his arm chair was Nixon's leather jacket, forgotten after last night's visit. They had played cards for what seemed like hours. It was so carefree, so unburdened. It was like Dick forgot about the knot he held against his chest for Lew, just for a little while. Dick's best friend was just there, innocently laughing and talking, while Dick enjoyed him as a person, enjoyed the aura of goodness Nix projected.

His mind wandered around his memories for a while, and Dick realized how sleepy he was. It was already past dinnertime, so he decided to take a nap. As he walked to his bed, he pulled on Nix's jacket, a little ashamedly. It was comforting to sleep with something that smelled like Nix. In minutes, Dick was asleep.

A surprisingly long time later, Dick woke up in the darkness. His clock read 9:02. He had slept for two and half hours. Dick didn't think he'd ever napped that long before in his life. He stumbled out of bed, wrapping Nix's jacket closer to himself. It had gotten cold and misty outside. Part of Dick just wanted to roll back up and go to sleep. However, his stomach was shouting loudly in protest. He had to find food.

Outside, Easy men were standing around, smoking and drinking. They didn't seem to mind the weather. The mess hall had a couple of lights on, so Dick decided to go snooping.

Inside, Dick could see Joe Liebgott and David Webster cleaning dishes. Dick laughed at the unlikely pair. Webster was gingerly cleaning a greasy pan while Liebgott was yelling at him to scrub harder.

"I touched something slimy." Webster scrunched his nose.

"Thank God you're not a medic you wuss." Liebgott threw a rag at him and turned to his own greasy pan.

"It's not my fault nobody ever made me do the dishes." Webster was digging his own grave.

"Hey fellas," Dick saved Webster from a particularly nasty comment from Liebgott. "Have any leftovers?"

"Hey, Lieutenant Winters," Webster smiled and dropped his pan into the frothy water. "Where were you tonight, everyone wanted to hear about Sobel." Dick nodded politely, trying to sound sorrier than he was.

"Yeah, boys, I snoozed my way through dinner," He glanced around the kitchen for scraps. "It's hard running an army."

"Here, Dick, I'll make you a sandwich," Liebgott forgot his pan and ran to the industrial sized fridge in the back. "Webster you keep on with those dishes."

Webster whined. "Swell."

"You like mustard, Dick?" Liebgott shouted from the back.

"Yeah, whatever you got, Joe." Dick would eat anything right now. Liebgott made him the most delicious ham sandwich, and even scrounged up a fresh orange. Webster and Liebgott bantered quietly while Dick ate. Their chatter comforted Dick in a strange way.

"So, are you going to London, sir?" Webster interrupted Dick's thoughts.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean this weekend, with your pass." Webster looked genuinely curious. No doubt the Harvard man would want to know all about London.

"You know I hadn't even thought about it. What a great idea." Dick would finally ask Lew to take him to London. His sandwich twisted in his stomach thinking about him and Lew alone in London.

"Why would you go there?" Liebgott chimed in. "Half of its been bombed by the Luftwaffe anyway." Liebgott made machine gun and explosion noises.

"But why stay here? To herd animals all day?" Webster crossed his arms. "Dick, you should go. Half of London is better than no London." Dick smiled at the still squabbling boys.

"Thanks guys. Don't rib each other's heads off." Dick headed off to find Lew.

It only took a few hours by train to get to London. Dick thought they'd be able to spend at least a full day in London. While it was true the Germans had bombed a lot of it, it was still a thriving city. Nix would know the best places to go.

Dick poked his head into Nix's office, but saw all the lights were off. He checked Nix's corner bed, but it was cold and empty. He then went to the boy's barracks, but still couldn't find Nix. Dick knew it was unlikely he'd find Nix. He probably had went to a local bar or restaurant to drink with Speirs and Lipton. Dick shivered in the English air and headed back to his room.

When he walked in, he noticed his lamp was on. He went to go turn it off when he saw someone stand up. Dick jumped back in alarm, a frightened gasp caught in his lungs. When he saw it was Nixon, he grumbled quietly.

"Don't do that! Don't you know there's a war going on outside?" Dick felt foolish. He sat on the edge of his bed.

Nix chuckled, "Wow, Dick, you were funny without even trying."

"How long have you been here?"

"Probably as long as you were gone." Nix wore a casual tan button down with no tie. His boots gleamed in the lamplight, freshly shined. Dick reached into his footlocker and grabbed a bottle of Vat-69, Nix's favorite European whiskey.

"I figured it's been at least an hour since you drank, Nix," Nix took the bottle, grinning. "Don't want to dry up."

"I knew you were a true friend," But Nix didn't open the bottle, merely smiled at it and set it back down. "Hey, is that my jacket?" Nix reached out and grabbed Dick's sleeve.

"Oh, yeah." Dick said it like he had forgotten.

"I've been looking for it all day!"

"Nix you leave everything here. All the time." Dick looked around and spotted several things that belonged to Nix.

"Well can I have it back?"

"No."

"What do you mean 'No'?" Nix's voice grew louder. Dick smirked.

"No." Dick let the vowel hang on his tongue. When Nix made a grab for the jacket, Dick jumped up, dashing out of the grip of Nix. He rounded around his desk, creating a barrier between him and Nix. Nix looked taken aback by Dick's playfulness. He ran left, chasing Dick away from his desk.

Nix grabbed the collar of the jacket, jerking Dick down. Nix wrangled him out of one arm of the jacket, laughing at Dick's defeated face. They rolled a bit to the side, Dick pushing at Nix's face. Their voices echoed off the walls, breathless and young. Finally, with a burst of strength, Dick pinned Nix to the ground, the jacket dangling off one shoulder. His hands held down Nix's shoulders. They breathed hard for a couple of minutes, just smiling at each other.

"I surrender, Lieutenant Winters!" Lewis pulled off a dramatized German accent. "Although I must say, straddling another officer isn't very professional." Nix's voice purred and Dick's breath caught. The two of them didn't move, their breath bouncing off each other's faces. For one fleeting moment, Dick wanted to lean down and kiss Nix's lips. They looked soft and pink. Dick tore his eyes away from Nix, but his hands dug into Nix's shoulders.

Nix put his hands on Dick's hands then, slowly sitting up so Dick was practically in his lap. They looked at each other more, before Dick snapped out of it and jumped up. As much as he knew he should, he still didn't take the jacket off.

Nix stared up at Dick, a small smile threatening to appear. It was like Lew was always one step ahead of Dick, always seeming to be reading between the lines. Dick went to his desk and held up the two passes.

"Prizes for beating Sobel." Dick tossed them to him.

"Two of them?" Dick could already see the wheels turning in Nix's head.

"I want you to take me to London." Dick sat down on the ground next to Nix, smiling shyly.

"You want to go to London Town?" Nix had a thing for accents, using a posh one now.

"I want you to take me there," Dick repeated, the affection flowing from his mouth. "You'll be the perfect tour guide."

"Dick I haven't been there since I was a kid." Suddenly Nix looked worried, like he was afraid he'd let Dick down or something.

"I don't want to go with anyone else." That put a smile back on Nix's face.

"Okay." Nix swayed closer to Dick.

"Okay." Dick beamed.


	6. Chapter 6

That Friday, Dick and Lew were promoted to Captains. The two silver bars pinned to Lew's hat gleamed and contrasted with his dark wavy hair. Dick had always been jealous of Lew's hair. He liked it so much better than his own patch of fine auburn hair. Lew leaned over to rub Dick's own captain's pin.

"Congratulations, Captain Winters." Nix winked at Dick. Dick saluted him and shook his hand. Dick and Nix saluted Colonel Sink, and left for an intelligence briefing in one of the many buildings the army had commandeered from Aldbourne. Technically Dick didn't need to be there, but now that he was a captain, he could go anywhere he wanted.

"Well if it isn't Captain Winters and his trusty follower, Captain Eyebrows!" George Luz intercepted Dick and Nix on their way in the door. Bill Guarnere's nickname for Nix had caught on. It was true; Nix had very prominent eyebrows.

"What would I do without you, Luz?" Nix had a love-hate relationship with his nickname.

"Die of boredom, no doubt." Dick piped in.

"Oh I'm sure you'd find some way to entertain yourself." Dick wasn't sure, but he seemed to notice Luz shifting his stare between Dick and Nix. There was an awkward pause, as it seemed Nix had picked up on the innuendo as well.

"Do you need something, George?" Dick asked.

"Yeah, Lieutenant Speirs wanted me to tell Nix he's looking for him," Luz waggled his eyebrows.

"Won't he be at the intelligence meeting?" Dick turned his head slightly towards Nix. Nix shrugged quickly. Dick knew he and Speirs were good friends, they'd known each other at Fort Benning, before they were at Toccoa. It always seemed that Nix was slightly uncomfortable with their friendship. Dick didn't blame him. Speirs was a great officer, but he also scared everyone he was around.

"Nah, he said he was skipping out to go into town," Luz lit a cigarette. "Probably wants to get a jump on the weekend." Luz waved at Bull Randleman behind Dick and Nix, winked at them, and headed off to join Bull.

"Why would he be looking for me and then go into town?" Nix shook his head. "Having friends is hard." Dick rolled his eyes at Nix, and followed him inside.

Three hours later, Dick and Nix were halfway to London. The intelligence briefing had filled the officers in on more of the specifics of the European invasion. Normandy was divided into sections, and Easy Company would be jumping behind enemy lines, away from the beach. The invasion was set for June sometime. Dick felt like the war was taking its merry time getting to him, which made him feel tense and anxious.

The train rolled through English countryside, the wide flatlands reminding Dick of Pennsylvania. He barely remembered what it felt like to be home. He hadn't heard from his family in a while, the letters had probably been delayed overseas. A thick layer of clouds covered the sky. It would probably be a drizzly evening. English weather per usual. Nix sat across from him, sipping coffee and reading the local paper. It was the longest Dick had ever seen Nix concentrate on one thing willingly.

"Is the paper publishing war secrets?" Dick kind of just wanted attention from Nix, but was also genuinely curious to see what had captured his attention.

"You know you're getting really good at this humor thing," Nix finished his coffee, eyes slanting upwards to meet Dick's. "You should go to war more often."

Dick pursed his lips. "Why do people think I'm not funny?" Dick waited for Lew to answer. Nix just looked at him sarcastically.

"Dick, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Nix put his paper down. "But I think you've got to be the most innocent man I've ever met."

"I am not," Dick pouted. Nix looked back at his paper. "I've never seen you read so much in all the time I've known you." Dick was eager to change the subject.

"I did go to Yale, Dick," Nix flipped the page. "Believe it or not, you have to read a lot while you're there. Wish they'd have told me before I went." Dick contemplated Nix being at college. Nix came from money, but he never acted like it. In fact, he acted like he had a huge chip on his shoulder. Nix didn't go straight to officer's school; he completed basic training first, just like everyone else. Dick didn't ever think about Nix being an ivy leaguer. Now that he was focused on it, it seemed to make sense. Nix probably did love to read. There were volumes of novels in Nix's room, along with the standard military books. Nix did have a few personal journals stowed in his desk (which Dick was careful to always avoid). Nix also loved music. One time, during a late night meeting, Nix brought up that fact that his mother smashed his jazz collection, calling it "race music." Nix had the quiet analytical mind that came from hours and hours of studying. Of course he was an intelligence officer.

"Where is Yale?" Dick wasn't dumb, it had to be somewhere on the coast, but for the life of him he couldn't pinpoint it.

Nix smiled softly. "New Haven, Connecticut."

"What did you study?"

"Lots of things. Literature, languages, politics." Nix didn't seem that interested in his Ivy League education. "My degree was in international relations." The irony was not lost on Dick.

"What language did you learn?"

"French," Nix put his paper away. "Just one country off from being useful."

Dick beamed. "Did you have fun?"

Nix chuckled. "Why all the questions Dick?" He looked out the window, remembering. "Yeah, I mean, it was great, really. Connecticut is pretty, I'm a good student, I was young and away from my parents."

"I just realized there's a lot I don't know about you." Dick silently wondered if he had a college sweetheart.

"There's not much to know." Dick knew that was a lie. Nix was always self-deprecating.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No."

"How many aunts and uncles?"

"Six aunts and uncles on my father's side, four on my mother's." Dick could tell Nix was enjoying the questioning. He doubted anyone in the military really had bothered to get to know Nix.

"Is your father a Lewis?" Dick thought back to last Christmas, when they had exchanged dog tags.

"Yes, although he goes by his middle name, Charles." Nix looked slightly uncomfortable at the mention of his dad. Dick had always noticed that he only referred to his dad as 'father'. Never dad.

"What's your middle name?"

"Andrew, as in Andrew Carnegie," Dick raised his eyebrows. "He was friends with my father."

"I didn't know my best friend had such connections." Nix blanched at that, so Dick eased off.

"What's your favorite book?"

"The Great Gatsby." Dick knew about the book, knew its author had died only a few years before. Beyond that he knew little.

"Why?"

"In the book, Gatsby is looking to the future always, which is personified in a green light across from his house," Nix paused. "He's always looking for the green light on the horizon," Nix had gotten deep, and cringed at himself. "I don't know. I just liked it."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, watching as the countryside turned into villages, then suburbs, and then, finally, into London. Nix looked out intently, taking in the city adoringly. Dick had to admit, it was a quite marvelous to see. Nix pointed out certain buildings to him, including the parliament building and the Big Ben clock tower, which wasn't as big as he thought it would be.

Dick liked London, but he liked seeing Nix in London more. He seemed refreshed, thriving in the world of concrete and sprawling cityscapes. Even though Nix had only been to London as a kid, he navigated deftly through the winding roads, only glancing at a map once.

Their hotel was modest but plush. Their rooms had a connecting bathroom, and the view opened up on downtown London. Dick could see places that had been bombed, the corners of buildings missing and the rubble obstructing traffic. Lew had said the majority of the bombing had happened in the suburbs of London. Lew didn't know if that was intentional or not.

Dick washed up in the bathroom, while Nix fiddled with the record player in his room. They had a modest record collection, and Nix was sorting through it impatiently.

"Can you believe no jazz? What do these people dance to?" Dick was shaving, only half listening.

"What, no jazz in war torn Europe?"

"Oh come on, war doesn't stop people from dancing!" Dick wondered if Nix was drunk. Dick nicked his neck a bit, blood pooling into a small dot on his pale skin.

"Damn," Dick wiped the blood away. In Nix's room, loud opera was pulsating through the air. Dick turned around in surprise. "Uhh, Nix?"

Nix was lying on the floor. "Yes, Captain?" The soaring tenor on the record broke up Nix's voice a bit.

"Opera?"

"Another thing you didn't know about me." Nix blushed a bit, which made Dick blush too. He turned back to the bathroom.

"So where are we going tonight?" Dick started to get into his dress uniform.

"I thought we'd going to this nice restaurant I went to as a kid, if I can find it; then I thought we'd walk by the river Thames."

"Why the river?" Dick buttoned up his shirt and put his belt on.

"Because, it's a British landmark the Krauts haven't destroyed." Nix got up and watched Dick get dressed. Dick grabbed his tie, but was stopped when Nix grabbed it out of his hands. Nix looped it around Dick's neck and tied it for him. Dick looked anywhere but Nix's face. Plenty of guys would tie each other's ties. They seemed to come out better when someone else did it anyway. Somehow it felt more intimate when Lew did it. Nix's fingers brushed Dick's neck, and Dick shivered slightly. Nix half-smiled, his cheek dimpling. For a moment Nix looked at Dick, admiring his handiwork.

"Do I look like a real Captain?" Dick's voice was a little gruff.

"You always look like a Captain." Nix went over to his duffel bag and pulled out his dress shirt, which was slightly wrinkled. Nix shrugged slightly, undoing his shirt and putting the new one on.

Dick sat beside the record player while Nix got ready. He could hear him humming along to the classical music. Dick thought it sounded like Mozart, but he couldn't be sure. When Nix was ready Dick grinned at his friend. His tied was done in a Windsor knot, his dress coat hiding the slightly crumpled fabric of his shirt. All Nix had to do was put on his hat, and they'd be ready. Dick grabbed it off the bed and made a show of putting it on Nix's head.

"Ready?" Nix opened the door. Dick nodded, and turned off the light.

The evening whirred by in a hurry to Dick. It took about a half hour to locate the restaurant Nix was talking about. It was far fancier than what Dick was expecting, although he should've seen it coming. The waiters were friendly and asked about the American's plans, to which Lew let a lot more slip than Dick thought was strictly allowed. Not that the Brits would be running off to the Germans anytime soon.

For dinner, Lew ordered Dick the most delicious steak he'd ever had. Lew had salmon and baked potato slices, which Dick thought was just a fancy version of fish and chips. Nix had a piece of Dick's steak and let Dick sample some of his food too.

Afterward, to avoid collapsing into a food coma, Dick and Nix walked around London, a fresh wind waking them up. They walked around Big Ben, and Nix explained that once in the 19th century, someone had tried to blow up the parliament building. Dick listened politely, but found himself thinking more about Lew than the landmarks. Lew was bright and happy, bursting with knowledge. The wind mussed his hair, especially when he took off his hat. His crumpled shirt matched his disheveled look perfectly. It was off putting that Nix could look so good, but barely notice it.

"There's the mighty Thames." Nix stretched out his arms, taking in the gushing waters that blew mist into their face.

"It's nice." Dick still thought it was just a river. The night had gotten cold, although it wasn't even ten yet.

Nix regarded Dick thoughtfully. "You want to go back?"

"We can stay here."

"Nah, it's okay, I know that look." Dick was horrible liar. He did want to go back. They trudged back to their small hotel rooms.

"Hey, would you mind if I went down to the bar to grab a drink?" Dick was lying on his bed, thinking about nothing in particular. "I won't be gone more than twenty minutes." Nix fidgeted nervously. Dick looked at Nix for a moment, then jumped off the bed.

"Let me go with you." Dick thought maybe he'd try something to drink. He figured the best person to do it with would be Nix.

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not? When in Rome."

"London."

"Come on Nix." Dick pushed him out the door.

The bar was small, just adjacent to the hotel. Some other service men milled about, smoking and talking to the waitresses. Nix ordered a rum and coke. He looked questioningly at Dick.

"You wanna Coke Dick?"

"I'll have whatever you're having."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Dick smiled happily. He couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be at this exact moment. The waiter passed their drinks to them, and Dick took a big gulp. He tried not to sputter. It didn't taste that bad, he just had no experience with alcohol.

"How ya doing, champ?" Nix downed his in two gulps. He turned his attention to the jukebox in the corner of the room. A second later, a seedy jazz tune seeped into the bar.

"This is what your mom wouldn't let you listen to?" Dick listened to the ragtime tune. He thought it was swell.

"She didn't want me to be influenced by the wrong sort of crowd," Nix ordered another drink. "Crowd being the word for blacks, of course." Nix downed his drink in one gulp this time.

"I'll have another one." Dick finished his first drink, blood rushing to his cheeks. The waiter gave both of them a refill. Dick took another large drink.

The next forty-five minutes were spent with Nix explaining jazz to Dick while he slurped on two more rum and cokes. He hadn't known what had gotten into him, all he knew was that he was hot and having a great time. Nix talked about other kinds of music too, but it was lost on Dick. Maybe Nix had talked about movies or plays as well. Cultured things learned at Yale. Mostly Nix was just trying to fill space.

When Dick started to sway a bit, Nix brought him back up to his hotel room. Dick took off his boots and tie, thankful to be sitting down. He felt dizzy, but alive. He heard Nix undressing in his room and went to go sit on Nix's bed.

"I'm really happy we're here." Dick was aware he slurred a bit, but didn't care.

"Yeah, I am too, Dick." Nix was in his trousers and undershirt, perched on the armchair in the corner. Dick looked at Nix for a long time. Nix's cheeks were flushed; his eyes were sleepy and relaxed. Dick thought about when they wrestled for Nix's jacket. How he had pinned Nix under him. Dick took a deep breath in. He walked towards Nix.

"Lew?" Dick's mouth was talking before his brain could stop him.

"Yeah?" Nix leaned up, inching a little closer to Dick. It was eerily quiet; there weren't any buses or cars outside. The wind had died down, and the only sounds were the rustling of their uniforms.

"I forgot." Dick's face was so close to Lew's that he could feel Lew's breath on his neck. Dick thought about all the times he wanted to tell Nix about how much he meant to him. All the times the words snared in Dick's chest. All the times the war seemed to kill any thought Dick had of confessing to Lew. Right now, the war seemed years away. Yet Lew was so close.

With a burst of alcohol fueled courage, Dick closed the gap between him and Lew. He pressed his lips to Nix softly. He expected Lew to jump up, yell in protest, but all he got was a muffled inhalation of breath. Dick knelt in front of Lew, kissing deeper. Lew's face grew hot, his hands tangled in Dick's red hair, and Dick felt himself being lifted into Lew's lap. Their breathing grew heavier, and Nix broke the kiss to look into Dick's eyes. He seemed in a daze, his arms wrapping around Dick's waist.

"Dick, you're drunk." Nix murmured against Dick's neck. Dick snorted at Lew's attempt at chivalry.

"Lewis," His voice caught on his name. "You're drunk too." Dick pulled Lew up and pushed him gently against the nearest wall. His hands trailed down his torso, making Lew shiver. Dick pressed flush against him, moving his hips upwards. Nix whimpered just slightly, and Dick thought it was the best noise he'd ever heard.

"Dick, wait, we should talk—"Lew's words were cut off by a loud siren. Dick didn't release Lew, but glanced outside.

"It's an air raid alarm," Dick looked puzzled for a second, hazily trying to remember what that was. He was drunker than he thought. "Come on, champ." Lew grabbed Dick's hand and pulled him out into the hallway. They asked a maid who was running by where they should go.

"There's a staircase just by the check in desk for guests," The dark haired woman eyed Dick. "Is he okay?" Dick was heavily leaning against a wall. Nix grabbed him around the shoulders.

"Oh, yeah, just a bit too much of the spirits, I'm afraid." Nix began moving away with Dick in tow.

Once in the bowels of the hotel, Dick and Nix could hear nearby explosions. Dick had sobered up enough to be a little afraid. This was as close to combat as he'd ever come before. They huddled with the other handful of guests in the dank basement for about an hour, until the sirens finally stopped.

Dick was dreadfully tired, the alcohol finally sapping his remaining energy. When they got back to their rooms, Nix looked at him, unsure of what to do. Dick didn't want to lose this night. He didn't want it to be explained away by drunkenness. He pulled Nix into his room, and tried to summon words that would explain everything.

"I wanted to tell you," Dick sat down on his bed, tugging his dress shirt off. "I wanted to tell you before," Dick's speech was slow and languid. "You're my best friend." His words didn't seem to be conveying anything.

Nix smiled, but it seemed almost sad, as if he dare not hope for anything. "How about we talk about it in the morning?" He helped Dick into bed.

"Okay," Dick made a move for Nix's hand. "But stay here tonight." Nix hesitated, and eventually nodded. He held up one finger, and left the room for a minute.

Dick touched his lips, remembering how they felt attached to Nix. He tried very hard to remember every detail of Nix's skin.

When Lew got back, he was in striped cotton pajama bottoms. He shut off the lamp light, and everything was hushed. Lew got into bed, and Dick turned to face him. Dick grabbed Nix's dog tags, smiling sweetly.

Once again, Lew said, "We'll talk about it in the morning."

Dick yawned, grabbing Lew's hand. "Can't wait."


End file.
